Sister Golden Hair
by 50ftQueenie
Summary: Tim Shepard gave me one hundred dollars of his cut from selling off my brother's pot. Two days later, he sent Curly to my house to ask for it back. Continues where "Every Mother's Son" left off. Drugs, language, violence, and a partridge in a pear tree.
1. Chapter 1

SD Hinton owns The Outsiders and the Shepard clan. America owns the song.

This is the second installment in my Kathy series. It begins where "Every Mother's Son" leaves off.

**Sister Golden Hair**

_I do agree there's times when a woman sure can be a friend of mine…_

One-

Tim Shepard gave me one hundred dollars of his cut from selling off my brother's pot. Two days later, he sent his little brother to my house to ask for it back.

"You're shittin' me," I said to Curly.

Curly bounced on his toes and tried to look beyond me inside the house.

"No, I ain't. He needs you to bail him. Everything's a mess. The Devilhawks are fucking us up."

I leaned against the doorframe and pondered Curly and his request. I didn't even know any Devilhawks. Before my brother- who was a Tiber Street Tiger- went to prison, the Devilhawks were small change. Their turf was tiny, and the Shepards handily kept them backed up against the river. My brother used to say their only territory was under the Arkansas River Bridge. Two-Bit called them the Devilfish.

I could only guess that, with my brother in the pen and Adrian Boone dead, the Devilhawks had decided to make a move for Tiber Street turf. The wrinkle in that logic was that they had to move through Shepard Turf to get to it, so they had to take on the Shepards first. They made their move- they jumped Tim at Benny's and Tim got arrested. According to Curly, the gang wasn't functioning without Tim and the Devilhawks were having their way.

"I spent it," I lied to him.

"In two days?" Curly made a face. "What'd you spend it on, Reilly? Sure wasn't clothes and make-up."

He thought he could get away with calling me Reilly like his brother did.

"A little humility, Shepard Junior. The guy being sent by the guy who needs my hundred bucks doesn't get to comment on my clothes and make-up."

"Or lack thereof." Curly didn't get it.

"I spent some of it," I told him, which was the truth. I had filled out the application for Tulsa Technical College, and there was a fee. It would surprise Curly to know that I also bought myself a pair of boots. Not that it was any of his business.

"How much of it?"

"Are you his accountant now? How much is his damned bail? What's he even in for?"

"It's like thirty-five bucks, but he has an old fine," Curly said. "So, it's more like fifty. Simple."

"Yeah, real simple."

"No, that's what he's in for- simple assault."

I shook my head and stepped aside to let Curly in the house. I figured I might as well let him and might as well feed him too. It was going to be a long afternoon. Nothing was ever simple with Tim Shepard.

* * *

I guess I didn't look like the girls who usually showed up to bail Tim. The officer behind the desk at the County jail furrowed his brow at me.

"Are you his sister?" He asked.

"No," I said and quit there. I didn't know what to call my relationship to Tim.

"Well, you're not his mom. She was just here. You know he has a fine?"

"Yes."

"You know it's one hell of a fine?"

I turned back to look at Curly, who was sitting on a bench. He was less jumpy on a full stomach. He just looked at me and shrugged.

I asked the officer what he meant by one hell of a fine.

"With the bail, it's one hundred-sixty. He failed to appear on the last charge. He's considered a flight risk. There's the previous fine, the bail, and I guess what you could call a prophylactic fine."

Behind me, Curly snorted at the word prophylactic.

I smiled at the officer and asked him to give me a minute. I walked back to Curly and kicked at his shoe.

"I don't have one hundred-sixty dollars, Shepard. I have seventy-one dollars. Did you know about this before or are you just as surprised?"

Curly raised his eyebrows at me. He looked more baffled than surprised. I guessed he was trying to do the math.

"Eight-nine bucks," I said. "We're eight-nine short. Actually, you're one-sixty short. Whatever's going on here, I think I'm done."

I went back to the counter, picked up my purse and thanked the officer for his time. I walked past Curly and through the station doors. He was right on my heels.

"Please, Kathy," He said. "These guys are into weird shit."

"Like what kind of weird shit?" I asked, still walking towards my car.

"Like girls."

"Aren't you into girls?"

"Not like that," he said. I stopped then and looked at him. His voice faltered like a scared kid. Until then the only things I knew of that scared Curly were Tim and the idea of missing dinner.

"Like what then?"

"Doped up girls. They sell them…or rent them out…to the Socs for parties and shit."

"Who told you that?"

"They did- some girls did. They told Tim. He kind of thought they were bullshitting, or he didn't care, or whatever, but then a couple of those Chickenhawk dudes came into Benny's looking for Janine…"

Janine: I guess I knew that was her name. It was familiar now that Curly said it. She was a doper, but she must have had something special going on because Tim didn't deal with dope or users, but he tolerated her. She was pretty, but that was fading fast. She hung around Benny's and Tim didn't seem to mind her hanging on him.

"That's what the fight was about?" I asked Curly. "The simple assault?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they came around to tell Janine it was time to go to work."

"And Tim threw one of them through Benny's window."

"Yeah, pretty much."

I frowned. We had reached my brother's car. I leaned back against the door and looked up at the sky. I didn't want to look at Curly. I didn't want him to know how close I was to giving in. I didn't even know what I was giving in to, but I was close to letting him talk me in to something.

"Where's Janine now?" I asked.

"Don't know," he said. He looked at his feet, and I figured we both knew. "Ain't seen her since Tim went in."

I sighed. "So, I'd guess she went ahead and went to work."

Tim was right: he'd told me only two days before that I was no Al Capone. I was also not Sherlock Holmes, Wyatt Earp, or James Bond. It was a kind of pathetic attempt at crime-fighting, but Curly and I had no choice but to turn around and go back in to the jail and ask to speak with Tim.

"He can't go in," the officer said, nodding at Curly. "He's not eighteen. Are you eighteen?"

"Yes, sir," I said, and began to dig in my purse for my driver's license.

"That's fine. It's not really visiting hours."

"I'd just like a minute. I feel kind of bad- I'd like to tell him myself that we can't get him out."

For the first time, the officer smiled. "I was kind of looking forward to being the one to tell him."

I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. I signed my name to the list on the clipboard and followed him back to the visiting room off of the holding cells.

I'd hadn't been here before. I'd never been old enough to visit all the times my brother was in jail. I took a seat in a plastic chair and waited. The door opposite me opened and a guard let Tim in. He looked surprised to see me. Then he got it, and he rolled his eyes.

"You are not a cheap date, Shepard," I said.

"Fuckin' Curly," he said. He grinned down at the table. "You know, he's fuckin' dumb as a rock, but he sees stuff. Very observant little bastard. He must've seen me palm you that money."

"He must have. Trouble is you have a wee bit more than fifty bucks of bail, Shepard, and I now have a bit less than a hundred."

"Well, maybe they'll take up a collection for me at the church. Sorry he dragged you all the way down here, Reilly. Keep your money. I said it was yours."

"Aren't you worried about Curly?"

"Eternally. What's his problem now?"

"He says the Devilhawks are leaning pretty hard, and Janine's gone missing."

Tim inhaled and his nostrils flared. He bit his lips and then leaned in towards me.

"Can you do me a favor, Reilly- make that two favors: if you're so goddamned worried about my little brother, make him a sandwich. Beyond that, stay home, stay quiet, and stay the hell out of my shit."

"That's more like four favors."

"Baby, just…"He sat back and looked around the room like he wanted to be sure no one heard him say it. "Girl, please, just stay out of it. Honest to Christ, I don't even know what to do on this one. This is way out of my league, and if it's out of my league-"

"Then we got nothing to lose if Curly and I give it a go," I said. I stood up and knocked at the door.

Tim shot up from his seat, but the guard came in and told him to take it easy.

"No, Kathy," he said. "Do you hear me? I swear to God…"

I slipped back out into the station and closed the door between us. Curly stood up. His eyes were wide.

I asked the officer, "If we don't pay the fine or the bail, how long does he have?"

"Six weeks."

"Holy shit," Curly said.

The officer shot him a look and added, "He has a hearing on Tuesday. If he minds his p's and q's and kisses the judge's ass, there's a chance he'll get sprung with another fine to pay."

Curly smirked. "So we'll see him in six weeks, then?"

"If I was a bettin' man," the officer replied. He told us that Tim's hearing was at two-thirty, if Curly and I wished to attend and give moral support.

I thanked him. My plan was to stay clear of Tim for the next few weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders

**Sister Golden Hair- Two**

I told Curly to drive, which quickly headed off him arguing with me over where we were going. I sat down on the passenger side of my brother's car, dug a pen and notebook out of my purse and began to write:

_But where are the women?_

_It's like those villages you read about in history class-empty of men because the men are off at war. Except this village is the war. All the men are here. _

_To be female here, you have to be useful- you have to be a waitress, or a school teacher, or give great head. It ain't good enough to just stand around and look fine. They have magazines and pin-up calendars for that, and those chicks don't talk back._

_None of this "cat on a hot tin roofing" bitching allowed. You want to survive in the village, you got to fly under the radar until you're called upon. And don't be too disappointed when no one remembers your name. Some boy calls to you "honey", "baby", "pretty girl" you just get there. Make yourself useful. Don't think, just do. Do what you're told._

"What's that?" Curly asked.

I read it to him.

"Shit. Sorry I asked," he said, and then, "You really feel that way?"

"I really do," I said.

Not one hundred percent of the time. I didn't feel that way around Two-Bit, but the trouble there was I didn't feel much of anything at all for him. I told myself I was too used to having to put up a fight about everything. Two-Bit was so agreeable, it was like living with my dad, and that didn't exactly turn me on.

Curly said, "I thought you couldn't say 'ain't' when you were writing something."

"It's fiction. I can say it however I want."

"So, if it's fiction, then it's not real, right?"

I shrugged.

He grinned. "It sounds like you wrote it about my brother."

"It's creative nonfiction," I said.

"What the hell is that? Forget it. I don't want to know. Where are we going?"

"You tell me- where does Janine live?"

"I ain't going there. I don't want to go there."

"Why? It haunted?"

Curly's shoulders sagged. "No…I just…It's pretty rugged down there by the river, Kathy."

"You're afraid of my neighborhood and you're afraid of the river…"

"I ain't afraid, just uncomfortable."

I gestured to the street ahead.

"Just go to your place then. We'll drop you off and I'll go by myself."

He cursed under his breath. At the next light, where he should have turned left towards Shepard territory, he kept going straight towards the Arkansas.

We rode along in silence for a couple of blocks. I was about to break it and ask him what he knew about Janine, but he took a deep sigh and began on his own:

"They came up in Catholic school together. She's got a baby. It's probably his, but she don't make him do anything about it."

If I could've without Curly seeing me, I would've kicked myself right then for feeling jealous the way I did. Tim had a baby with a girl. He'd chosen someone once, and she wasn't a girl who was anything like me. What's more, he kept her around. He was protective of her even if she wasn't his girl anymore.

"Boy or a girl?" I asked, trying to sound conversational.

"I don't know. It's a baby. You know how freaky that feels- that I'm supposed to be someone's uncle? It's fucked up. I can't stand her. I wish he'd just cut her loose. She should adopt that baby away and leave us alone."

I couldn't help but smile. Curly was jealous too.

"So, is she hooked on that shit?"

"I'd guess. He's tried to lock her up a few times and make her kick. It doesn't ever last. He'll hole up with her for a few days- that's how I know where she lives. I bring them food because he can't leave or she'll bolt. She cleans up for a week or two and then she's back on it."

"Who takes care of her baby?"

"Who knows? Tim does when he stays with her. Wrap your head around that- Tim minding a baby."

I preferred not to. It put him on another level, in another world from me all together. He was an adult more than I'd given him credit for. I was still a child playing with childish things by comparison.

I started to get cold feet.

"I have no idea what I'm doing with all this," I said.

"Yeah, no shit."

Again, I smiled in spite of myself. I liked Curly. He was unrestrained in his honesty where his brother was always trying to work an angle.

"I want to know who she's working for. I guess I'll ask her that."

"I can tell you that," Curly said. "He's the dude who looks suspiciously like someone just tossed him through a plate glass window."

"Does he have a name?"

Curly shrugged.

"I'd like a name."

"So you can do what- go run on down to Macalester and tell your brother? Hell, Kathy, your brother probably knows the guy. Not like he was just Cal the Friendly Pot Dealer when he was around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ask Janine," Curly said. He pulled the car up to the curb and nodded up at a painted cinderblock building. "She can describe it for you. If she's conscious. Otherwise, we're probably going to have to feed that kid of hers. You got any money?"

"Seventy-one dollars," I reminded him.

We got out of the car. I waited for Curly to meet me on the sidewalk. He walked past me without another word and I followed him into the alley to the fire escape.

I was mad at him again, although not the way I was mad at Tim and all the rest of them. I was mad at Curly because I knew he was right. I had no idea what I was going to do with Janine or with the name I intended to get from her. I didn't want to believe that my brother could be that shady, but deep down I knew it was possible.

I let Curly get ahead of me on the fire escape so that I at least had half a story or so to concoct some kind of plan.

* * *

Curly ducked into an open window on the third floor. I stayed put on the fire escape to think.

I hated her voice when I heard it. It took me a second to place it. Not the exact voice, but the lazy and too-friendly, "Hey…" of someone under the influence. She sounded just like my mother did before she finally took off. My mother drank and popped pills, but the greeting was the same. My guard went right up. Janine was conscious-barely- and if she was anything like my mom she saw a meal ticket and a fix in Curly and me.

I took a deep breath and went inside.

"Did you come to see Rosie?" Janine was asking Curly.

"Who's Rosie?"

"My baby, stupid. She ain't here though. My mom took her till I get a job…"

"Yeah," Curly said. He turned back to face me. He nodded and Janine turned around. "That's what we're here for. Kathy wants to know about your job."

Janine turned around slowly. She didn't seem as surprised as she should've to see me standing there. Every time I'd seen her hanging around in Benny's she'd had her hair ironed out straight. Now it was curly and hung around her face like vines. Her lips were dry. The lower one had cracked and was bleeding.

"Yeah? You looking for work, honey?" She said. She didn't even ask who I was.

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"You'd do good. They're starting to bitch at me 'cause I'm getting to too thin, they said. Not that you're fat or nothing…just…"

I smiled at her and nodded. "I know."

"Yeah, you know…full-figured girls. They like them. You got nice tits."

"Thank you, " I said. Behind Janine, Curly grinned and nodded in mocking agreement. I shot him a look and then said to Janine, "what would I have to do?"

"Oh, you know…" She paused and looked behind her. "I don't know if I should say in front of him."

Curly rolled his eyes as if to say _please!_

"Anybody hungry?" He asked. "I'm starving. Kathy, give me some cash and I'll go get us something down the block. You ladies can chit-chat."

I rummaged in my purse for my wallet, aware that Janine was eyeing that as I did. I gave Curly a couple of dollars and he ducked back out the window.

"You don't really want to work for Carter, huh?" Janine said when Curly was gone. In that split second, she seemed a hundred times more lucid. She sat back down at her kitchen table and picked up a cigarette.

I knew this stage, too, and I knew to beware. My mother could go from playful and stupid to sneering and evil with lightning speed.

"Carter Burr," I said. I knew that name well enough. I stomach grew hard when I said it aloud. If I said it again, I might conjure him like a spirit.

He moved among us like a spirit. I couldn't remember ever seeing him in the daylight. He'd done time and now that he was out, he was a little old to still be hanging around with the likes of us. He was older than Calvin, definitely older than Tim. Now I knew what Tim meant when he said even he was out of his league here.

Carter Burr was a real criminal. He had transcended any kind of gang allegiance, but the Devilhawks considered him theirs. More like they were his. Tough as nails and downright ugly like they were, they all got glassy-eyed when he was around.

"Yeah, you know him?" Janine asked.

I told her: "My brother's Calvin Reilly."

She raised her eyebrows, took that in, and got belatedly nervous.

"Well, shit," she said. "What are you coming for me for?"

I didn't like the way she asked it- like it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that my own brother could and would set me up with work. I looked around at the window behind me, wishing Curly would reappear. When he didn't show himself, I said to Janine:

"You know, really I did just come to see the baby. I came to see Rosie."

It was a bad move. Janine's eyes narrowed. She stubbed out her cigarette.

"What do you want with her?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see her. Curly said…"

"Did Tim send you? Did he send you to take her? Are you his girl now?"

I shook my head.

"No, Curly brought it up. I just thought…"

"I can about guess what you thought," Janine said. "Well, think again. And tell Tim to think again too. He ain't taking my baby and giving her over to the next girl to raise up. I bet you thought y'all could be a happy little family, didn't you?"

The idea of having a happy, little family with Tim Shepard and a baby was too much bizarre for my mind to take. I just blinked.

"She's my baby." Janine's voice broke when she said it. "Everyone thinks they can just step in and take her. They buy her some clothes and some diapers and they think they own her. They think I can't…"

"Well, congratulations, Kathy," Curly's voice made me jump. I hadn't heard him on the fire escape. He didn't come all the way in this time, just poked his head in the open window. "In the time it took for that old dude down the block to make me a hamburger, you've managed to piss her off. Well played- usually takes me at least fifteen minutes."

"I hope you got hamburgers for us and not just yourself," I said.

In reply he chucked a wrapped burger on the table for Janine.

"Yours is in the car," he said to me. "We need to be leaving now. Right now."

"Shit, what time is it?" Janine said. She began pushing her hair back away from her face in a vain attempt to get ready for something or someone.

"We're going," Curly said. He reached in through the window and grabbed my arm.

"You can come with us," I said to Janine. I put my hand out to steady myself against the window sill. Curly was not letting go.

He whispered, "No, she cannot…"

"Kathy Reilly," was all Janine said. Her voice was thoughtful- not threatening- but I knew that tone from dealing with my mom too. She was saving it for later. Me and my name might be useful to her.

"Janine," I said.

"Turner," she replied, as though we were meeting all over again for the first time. "Janine Turner."

"Good, good, and I'm Curly Shepard," Curly said and yanked at my arm again. "And we're going."

There was a loud knock on Janine's door. I might have been a kick. She turned towards it and I followed Curly out on the fire escape. We scurried down to the street where he'd left the car running. He didn't even ask- he just got in behind the wheel and drove us away.


	3. Chapter 3

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders and the Shepard clan.

**Sister Golden Hair- Three**

"Can I make a confession?" Curly asked.

He punched the cigarette lighter in, and then held his hand out to me- waiting for either a cigarette or my permission to confess. I gave him the cigarette.

He drove another couple of blocks. The lighter popped out. I could see his hand shaking, so I took the cigarette from between his fingers, lit it for him and handed it back.

"See- that, right there? That don't make it any better," he said. He took a couple of drags on the cigarette and continued: "That's my confession- I think you're smokin' hot, Reilly. I mean, I get that I'm fifteen and you're out of high school, and you must have it bad for Tim because every other girl on the planet does, but…why do you have to be so nice and then so stupid and then so nice again. Do you know I'm just going to follow you around like a dumb old dog? I don't even think you're doing it on purpose…"

"Are you done?" Was all I said.

Later, I'd feel bad about it. I should have made more of a deal of his outpouring than I did. I should have told him in that I didn't intend to use him- I did actually feel better and stronger when he was around. Right then, though, I didn't have it in me to feel for Curly.

He sighed and tossed his spent cigarette out the window.

"Where're we going?" He asked.

"You need to go home," I told him. "Drive to your place, and then I'll go home."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise I'll go home."

I kept that promise. I could at least do that much for Curly.

* * *

I went home, parked the car, but didn't go in the house. I sat down on the back steps, folded my arms over my knees and laid my head down.

I didn't look up when I heard Two-Bit's footsteps behind me.

"Rough day at the rat race, dear?" He asked.

"How was school?" I avoided the subject.

He sat down next to me. He was silent long enough for me to figure out that he hadn't gone to school. I sat up straight and looked at him.

Goddamnit, but he was good-looking. He didn't look like anyone else I knew. Even Tim Shepard had an almost-doppelganger in Curly. Two-Bit was one of a kind. He could convey everything with his eyes.

"Did you know Shepard has a baby?" I asked.

"I did not know that. Which Shepard?"

"Timothy."

Two-Bit cackled at that.

"That's what he gets, I guess."

"What he gets for what?" I said, and then was sorry I asked. He was looking out across the lawn, but I caught the glint in Two-Bit's eyes.

"For being Catholic. You know how _they_ are…"

I started to crack up. "Yes, but what I want to know is how do _you_ know how _they_ are, Two-Bit Mathews?"

"You know, I read things. I hear things…I seen the Pope on TV once."

"And he somehow imparted this knowledge to you through the screen..?"

"…via my tinfoil hat, yeah." Confident then that he had me cajoled, he put his arm around me and asked, "So what sort of trouble did you get in to today?"

"Who says I'm in trouble?"

"Well, not 'in trouble' trouble…I hope not…are you…?"

"You're not Tim Shepard, remember? We don't have those religious hang-ups. No, I'm not in any trouble of any kind."

That was sort of a lie. A heroin addict from Riverhawk territory who prostituted herself out for Carter Burr knew my name and thought I was trying to take her baby. But, hell, at least I wasn't knocked up.

"Is Carter Burr still part of the action?" I asked.

"Not any action I'm a part of. Why? He ain't been around, has he? Taking him out would probably require a bit more than watching him fall down a flight of stairs."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He _mmm'd?_ like that was an invitation and leaned in at me. I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back. Another area where Two-Bit was like no one else I knew- no one could kiss like him, and I got kind of carried away with it.

He didn't though. He pulled back after a bit and frowned at me.

"It dawns on me," he said, "that I should ask about your sudden curiosity regarding Mr. Carter Burr."

"That's all it is. Curiosity."

"You're full of it. Are you throwing me over for Carter Burr, baby?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's a pimp, Two-Bit."

"Yeah, so you'll understand my concern…"

"Two-Bit, let's go inside," I said.

All the way through and on the other side of the house, there was a knock on the front door. Now we had to go inside. I stood up and brushed myself off. Two-Bit got up and followed me. He wasn't letting me answer the door by myself yet. The cops stopped by when they changed shifts, usually around dinnertime. If this was them, they were early.

Two-Bit followed me through the house poking and pinching at me. I was laughing and walking backwards to swat at him by the time I reached the front door. I couldn't wait for the cops to be on their way now so we could get back to fooling around.

I opened the front door and we both stopped.

Janine was standing there on the porch. Her hair was ironed straight. She had a little make-up on. In her arms was- I assumed- Rosie.

Rosie quite possibly Shepard.

Janine scratched her nose with the back of her hand.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said. She stood there silent for a few moments and shifted on her feet like she was making up her mind about something. Then she wrapped the blankets she had once around the dozing baby and thrust her out at me. "Here."

"What?"

"You wanted her so bad. You and him take her then. He thinks he's so much better than me. He thinks he can handle her, then have her."

I was forced to take Rosie for fear that Janine might drop her if I didn't. When I did, she turned and scurried away down the porch. There was a car waiting for her at the curb. I'd seen it drag race before on the ribbon- tore the place up. My brother both loved and loathed that car.

"That's not my baby," Two-Bit said from behind me.

"I know," I told him. "It's Shepard's. She thinks I have a thing with Shepard and we wanted to take the baby away."

"Do you have a thing with Shepard?"

"Nope," I said. "Shepard's in jail."

"I know he's in jail," Two-Bit's voice became strained. "How does she know where you live?"

"Apparently, she knows my brother. Is it possible that my brother was giving Carter Burr some kind of competition in his business ventures?"

"I wouldn't know," Two-Bit said. He shifted around behind me. I felt him step away from the door so that I could come inside.

I turned and came back in with Rosie. Two-Bit looked over my shoulder at her, his thumbs hooked in his belt. That was another thing about Two-Bit: he was not the kind of guy who was going to make the baby wait outside in the evening air while he and I argued about it. We were going to argue- no escaping that- but bring the baby inside. Make her a space to sleep on the couch. Put a pillow there, even, so she doesn't roll off. Then and only then, he and I were going to go in the next room and have it out.

Two-Bit was just that kind of guy.

* * *

And it went something like this:

"What did you do?"

"Tim wanted me to bail him. I went down to see him."

"Did you bail him?"

"No. I didn't have enough."

"So what did you and him talk about then? Did you have a nice, little chat?"

"No, it was less than amicable, actually. Curly told me about the girl-"

"That girl, on the porch, the one who just gifted you her child."

"Yeah, that girl."

"And how does that girl know you again?"

"Because Curly and I went to see her. She was all strung out. She's hooking for Carter…"

"And now she knows where you live, and so does Carter. I didn't sign up for this, Kathy. I told your old man I'd stick around and look after you until he got back, but had sincerely hoped that you were done with your trying to run with the big dogs after Boone…Shit, Kathy!"

We had shut ourselves in the bathroom, the furthest we could get from Rosie and still be in the house with her. Two-Bit turned away from me and gripped the edge of the sink. I sat down on the edge of the tub.

"You ought to know better with your mom the way she was," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you're trying to save this chick. There is no 'hooker with a heart of gold', Kath. She's just a junkie who'll leave her kid with someone she met a couple of hours ago. You should know better from dealing with your mom."

"You don't know shit about my mom," I said.

He snuck a sideways glance at me. "I know enough to know that she was just like my dad, and that tells me you ought to know better. Shit, Kathy…"

"Should we call _your_ mom? Or Shepard's mom?"

Two-Bit spit out a laugh. "Have you met Shepard's mom?"

I shook my head.

"She's a piece of work," he said. He shook his head. "Nah, you and me's got all three of them geniuses topped. Add Shepard to the mix, and…we'll hold on to her until tomorrow, and then we'll go see Shepard. Scratch that- I'll go see Shepard. You will sit in the lobby and hold on to his kid."

I nodded.

"We need diapers," I said. "And milk. Does she look little enough to drink milk?"

"Didn't you take Home Ec?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but I wasn't there when that baby was born. I don't know how old she is."

"Well, don't look at me. I took Shop, and I failed it. Twice."

"No one's asking you to build her a damned crib."

We both exhaled and stayed quiet for a minute. Then Two-Bit offered me his hand and pulled me up. I followed him back out into the front room and we stood looking over the sleeping baby.

"Cops'll be here in a bit," he said. "I can go out then and get diapers and milk."

"I got money," I told him.


	4. Chapter 4

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders.

**Sister Golden Hair- Four**

The flood and the range of emotions was amazing. Rosie would cry and I'd go scurrying to make her stop. Every step of the way, I'd curse my mother for teaching me nothing and for not being there to call upon. Then I'd fix it- or more likely, Two-Bit would fix it- somehow. She'd smile or-even better- she'd go back to sleep and I'd feel pure bliss.

Two-Bit had a knack for getting her back to sleep. It sort of got me hot to watch him. Then I'd make the mistake of remembering that this was Tim's baby, and I'd wonder if Tim had the same magic touch. I'd be awash in confusion all over again.

By ten o'clock the next morning, when we packed up to go to the jail, I was done-for emotionally.

"I'll drive," I told Two-Bit. "You hold her. She likes you."

And Two-Bit seemed to like her just fine too. He bounced her along across the yard, chattering at her all the way to the car. He looked so perfect doing it. I had to stop on the step and watch him and wonder why I just didn't feel it at all. All my life I'd been told that I was supposed to want this.

"You coming?" He called back to me.

"I forgot something," I lied, and gestured back at the house. "Be right there."

Once inside, I leaned on the kitchen counter and looked down at the faucet. My domestic experiment was over starting now, I told myself. Come spring semester, I was going to college. I was going to do my generals, save up my dough, and transfer the hell away from here.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and then opened them again to clear my head. Then I went back outside.

Two-Bit and Rosie were waiting in the car. He had her standing up on his thighs, facing him. She had her fist in her mouth and was overflowing with drool and giggles for him.

"How come you don't drool over me like that?" He asked me.

I rolled my eyes and put the key in the ignition.

"Sit her down, will you?"

He sat her down in his lap, but couldn't seem to resist rubbing his nose in her hair. I figured I knew how Curly felt when Rosie intruded on his relationship with Tim.

"You want one of those?" I asked him.

"I seem to have one already, thanks to you. What? Now? No. Of course I do someday down the line. I need a job. This kid makes me think I need a job."

He went back to gushing over Rosie. I frowned at the windshield. How was it that having a baby around made Two-Bit want to seek employment and it made me want to run like hell?

* * *

Tim Shepard was doing neither. He was upstairs at his hearing, the officer behind the desk informed us. Like Two-Bit, the officer seemed have difficulty not flirting with the baby.

"She your's, Mathews?" The officer asked.

"Hell, no," Two-Bit said, but stopped short of saying she was Tim's. "We're babysitting."

"Oh, yeah? How's that working out?"

"Best birth control in the world," I said, and they both looked at me in wide-eyed horror. I managed a smile. Then I remembered, "Wasn't Tim's hearing at two?"

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Are you his personal secretary now?"

"She's right. It was at two-thirty. Got moved up to ten on accounts of some pleading down and charges dropping. He was going to criminal court for the assault, but that got dropped. Now he's just up in civil figuring out how he's going to get square with Benny."

I nodded. Two-Bit and I stepped back to the bench to wait.

"Well, that's convenient," Two-Bit said. "Sounds like they'll let him out, and then he can take his baby."

As much as I wanted Tim to take Rosie off of our hands, I dreaded having to meet up with him so soon after our visit yesterday. There would be no denying the fact that I was now in even deeper than I was then, and that I'd gone and done pretty much everything he'd told me not to. And I'd taken Curly with me.

By eleven -fifteen, Tim was a free man. He signed his name to fifty different dotted lines at the desk, got his wallet, his lighter and his flannel shirt back, and turned around to us. I avoided eye contact.

In the presence of law enforcement at least, Tim remained congenial. He shook his head at the three of us, muttered "cute" to himself, and then said:

"Well, I had planned to start the afternoon working on a well-deserved drunk, but since she's here…Kathy, you going to watch the baby while Mathews and I go on a bender?"

"I don't think Kathy's too keen on the baby," Two-Bit said.

Tim shrugged. "Well then, you want to watch her while Reilly and I go get tanked? Reilly owes me a drink after the way she got my hopes up and then shot 'em down again yesterday."

If Two-Bit hadn't been holding Rosie, I think he would've punched Tim. It scared me when he handed her to me, swung Tim around by his shoulder to face the door and gave him the orders to march. I hung back while they argued their way outside.

Two-Bit was reading Tim the riot act about his unorthodox parenting and Tim was listening in silence. I knew that wasn't good. Tim was not being agreeable. He was waiting. He was going to let Two-Bit spew forth everything but some kind of plan. When Two-Bit was done, Tim was going to tell him exactly how it was going to be.

They stopped next to my brother's car.

Tim waited for me to catch up and then said to me, "What even makes you think she's my baby? Because some smack addict and my dumbass little brother said so? Shit, look at her. She look anything like me?"

"Then why are you always over there trying to get her mom to kick?" I asked.

His eyes flared. In my head, I apologized to Curly for the ass-whipping he was going to receive for letting go that piece of information.

"Who says that's why I'm over there?" Tim said. "You know what she is. You know what she does. Maybe that's why I'm over there."

He was bullshitting me. I could see it. I wanted to see it anyway. All I really knew though was that Curly said Tim would keep the girl locked up for a few days.

"Then whose baby is she?"

Tim shrugged.

"Then what should we do with her?"

"You know, Reilly, I was thinking maybe you ought to just field that one on your own. Isn't that what you want? You want to live the life? Well, welcome to it. You can do whatever the hell you want with her, just do it on your own. I got alcohol that needs ingesting."

He flipped me off and started away down the street. About half a block down, he turned back. He kept walking away from us backwards as he said to Two-Bit, "you want to talk then you'd better catch up, Mathews. Otherwise, have fun babysitting."

And to my surprise and horror, Two-Bit said to me, "I'd better see what he wants."

"You know what he wants," I squeaked. "He wants to fuck with our heads. He wants to string you along and piss me off…"

"Well, he's already accomplished stringing _you_ along and pissing _me_ off pretty nicely. Might as well let him have a crack at the other. I'll be back in an hour, Kath. I'm just going to see what kind of tale he's spinning. Maybe I can find out whose baby she is."

He kissed me on the cheek and patted Rosie's head, and then jogged to catch up with Tim.

"Fuck," I whispered. I knew this game and Two-Bit knew I knew it. I knew because my mom- just like his dad- used to play it. _I'm just gonna_…and she'd be gone for days. Two-Bit wasn't going to be back in an hour. He'd towed the line long enough and now he figured he deserved it. God knows what Tim thought his excuse was.

My cursing scared Rosie. She started to cry. Two-Bit and Tim had disappeared around the corner and there was no one to call out to. I looked up at the stairs at the jailhouse. There was a social service office in there. I could drop her off, give them Janine's address, and be rid of both of them.

Without being conscious of it, I'd started to bounce Rosie. I pushed her hair back and gave her a tentative kiss on the forehead. I whispered to her the lie that all parents tell when things are at their worst:

"It's okay, baby. It'll be alright."


	5. Chapter 5

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders and Tim Shepard.

**Sister Golden Hair- Five**

It wasn't hot anymore, but the glare off of the cinderblock building made it look like I was walking towards an open flame. Rosie ducked her head against my shoulder to shield her face from the sun.

I looked at the front door to the building and decided against it. I didn't actually know which apartment number was Janine's. It didn't seem like the kind of place where I'd want to knock on a whole lot of the wrong doors by mistake.

I moved Rosie on to my hip and started up the fire escape again.

Janine's window was as she had left it when Curly and I took off- open wide enough for me to crawl through. I called her name softly, but no one answered. Rosie called out too. Her small voice echoed in the near-empty apartment.

I crawled through the window.

Calvin and I used to break in to houses as kids. Cal broke in to plenty as an adult as well, but when we were kids we did it just for fun. I wouldn't even call it breaking in, really. People just left their doors unlocked then. On our way home from school sometimes, we'd just see a house and decide to give it a try. We never took at anything then (Calvin graduated to that later). We just walked around and looked at people's stuff.

We never got caught. A couple of times a cat or a dog would jump out and scare us. I quit doing it, though, because I started seeing too many things I didn't want to see: fist-sized holes in the plaster, days' worth of unwashed dishes, smutty magazines, bare refrigerators with nothing to offer the children who lived there.

I had myself prepared to see all that and more in Janine's apartment. Instead, I got more of the feeling that- any moment- something was going to leap out at me. I walked to the bedroom door and peeked in. It was empty except for an unmade bed. I frowned and wondered how many times Tim had slept there. Satisfied that no one was hiding in the bathroom or the linen closet, I went back out into the kitchen and sat down at the table to wait.

I figured I was doing Janine a favor. I wasn't taking her daughter to social services; I was bringing her back. I'd made up my mind that I'd give it a couple of hours. If she didn't show up by nightfall, I'd take Rosie home and I'd call in the social workers in the morning.

Rosie started to squirm. I set her down on the floor. She could sit up, but she didn't crawl yet. I put her at six or seven months old. I didn't know how old Janine was. Close in age to Tim, according to Curly. They would have been in high school when they got pregnant. I wondered why Janine didn't just adopt the baby away to someone.

The sky got darker and a street light kicked on at the end of the alley. The light filled up Janine's kitchen enough that I didn't turn on any others. I made Rosie a bottle. There was bread in the refrigerator. I broke off some little pieces for Rosie, but she didn't do much more than wallow them around in her mouth.

Eventually, my boredom got the best of me. I played with Rosie a little, but my mind wandered. I contemplated giving her a bath, but she seemed pretty clean after just a diaper change. I washed out the diaper in the bathroom sink. Then I opened the cabinet.

Aspirin, make-up, matches. I don't know why I thought she'd keep her heroin in the bathroom. Failing to find it there, I started looking. I don't know why. I'd walked in on her shooting once at Benny's. That's when she'd explained why she shot up between her toes. She seemed proud of the revelation. "It saves my arms," she said. "Can't get work with tracks all over my arms."

At the time, I had assumed she meant work like serving burgers or seating people in a movie theater.

I found it, with a roll of bills, in her top dresser drawer. She kept it in a baby food jar. I looked at the yellowish powder, contemplated flushing it like a good girl, and then remembered what pouring my mom's booze down the drain got me. _Fuck her_, I thought to myself, _if she wants it that bad_…

I heard footsteps in the outside hallway through the paper-thin walls. I shut the dresser drawer and scurried to scoop up Rosie, who was sitting underneath the kitchen table. I sat down with her in my lap and waited.

Whoever was at the door, though, didn't have a key. They rattled the knob and then pounded on the door. No woman pounded like that. I recognized the voice, when it called out, "Hey, Jeannie, you in there?"

I sighed and went to the door. I opened it and Tim opened his eyes as wide as his drunken state would allow.

"She ain't here," I said. "Take a number."

I turned away and left the door open. I could hear him whispering, "Hi, baby…hi, baby girl…" to Rosie as he followed me.

"What happened to Two-Bit?" I asked Tim. I sat down on Janine's small couch. Tim sat down on the floor in the middle of the room and beckoned for Rosie. I put her on the floor. She sat, looking back and forth between the two of us.

"She's yours," I said.

He smiled a little and stretched to pull her across the floor towards him by her feet. He answered me with a wink.

"I'd never make it in the Army, I'm afraid," he said. I sat and waited, having no idea what that meant. Tim continued, "All that 'leave no man behind' business? I fail miserably at that."

"I take it you left Two-Bit behind somewhere?"

"You could say that."

"Cops?"

He shook his head and hoisted Rosie above him.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

I shrugged. My stomach was starting to churn.

Tim asked, "What is your relationship with Two-Bit anyway?"

"He's with a girl, isn't he?"

Tim smirked and sang Rosie a few bars, "Fast life woman hangin' around a whiskey joint..."

"We're just friends," I said. I knew it sounded hollow. "He was just staying at my house to make my dad happy after the whole thing with Boone."

Tim raised an eyebrow like he didn't believe a word of that. He rolled on to his back, holding Rosie up at arm's length. She straightened out her legs like she was flying, like she did this all the time.

"So it's not a problem for you?" Tim asked.

"It's a problem for me that both of you took off to party and left me with your kid like I'm some kind of teeny-bopper babysitter. When do I get to party?"

"I came back, though? I get points for that, right?"

"You didn't even know I was going to be here. You came here looking for Janine."

Tim shook his head, more to Rosie than to me. "I took a shot, kid. I went by your place and you weren't there. So- what? You wanna party then?"

I rolled my eyes. I got up from the couch and went to the kitchen after the rest of Rosie's bottle.

"She got any beer in there?" Tim called to me.

"Nope. She's got bread, milk, and heroin."

I heard him mumble _Honest to Christ_ to Rosie. She giggled back. The floor creaked as he stood up. When I turned around with the bottle, he was standing behind me.

"Jesus," I whispered.

"Boo," he said.

He held the baby out to me just like Janine had. I took her out of the same fear. Tim headed towards the open window to the fire escape, saying, "I'm going after some beer, alright? Shut this thing when I'm gone, will ya? One of these days, that kid's going to be big enough to fall out."

He ducked out the window grumbling about Janine and how she was going to get everyone killed. I shut the window behind him and locked it.

* * *

Tim, it seemed, intended to cross the globe in search of beer. He was gone forever. Rosie fell asleep in my arms and I put her on the bed. I stayed curled up next to her until she rolled on to her back and her arms flopped limp at her sides. I went back out into the kitchen and turned on a little radio that sat on the counter.

Lesley Gore insisted "Maybe I Know". I cursed softly, but left it playing. Without it, the apartment was too quiet.

I took a deep breath and started to cry. It welled up in me like vomit. My whole body shook. I was getting what I deserved, I figured. I'd been using Two-Bit, and he had every right to ditch me. I'd asked him out as insurance against Boone- to have a boyfriend in public. Now he was out somewhere very publically carrying on with some other girl. If I went looking for him, intervened, cussed him out, all he'd have to say was, "you can dish it out, but you can't take it, Kathy," and he'd be right.

The knob on the front door rattled and then turned. The door opened softly. Tim whispered a "chhhht?" for me.

I wiped my eyes and straightened myself up. I figured he wouldn't be able to tell in the room lit only by the streetlight outside, but he looked suspicious anyway. He held up a bottle for me to see.

"Mmmmm," he said. "This'll cure whatever…whatever…"

"What is it?"

"Blackberry brandy. The best a buck-fifty can buy."

I wrinkled my nose. "My dad puts that on ice cream."

Tim looked at the bottle and raised his eyebrows like that wasn't a half-bad idea. He reached behind me and snagged a coffee cup out of the drainer.

"You want the cup or the bottle?" He asked.

"I want to take a nap," I told him.

"Oh, hell, no," he said. "You're babysitting, remember? No sleeping on the job."

"But I can get all buzzed on your cheap-ass brandy?

Tim feigned looking hurt. "Hey, I chose this shit especially for you, girl, 'cause you're so damned sweet. Pour you over a bowl of ice cream if I could."

I could have melted in a puddle at his feet or just as easily hit him over the head with his bottle of brandy. I was a sucker for Tim and his bullshit. Even with the evidence of all his misdeeds stacked up over the last few days like a rickety tower of blocks, all I had to hear was him saying he'd eat me with a bowl of ice cream and I was blushing.

"Are you blushing?" Tim asked. "Did I make you blush, Reilly? That's cool as hell."

He poured me a drink in the coffee cup and kept the bottle. He followed me back to the couch and this time he sat down next to me.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"Waitin' for Jeannie," he said, shrugging, like it was the most obvious thing.

"What are we going to do when she gets back?"

"Leave." Another shrug.

"We're going to sit in the dark and drink and wait for Janine?"

"What- you want to dance?" He cocked his head to listen for the radio. "I hate this song. It's a gay fuckin' song."

I listened: "Walk Away Renee".

"It's a guy singing about a girl named Renee, Tim. Sort of the definition of un-gay."

He shook his head. "Ain't Rene a guy's name, too?"

"If there's only one 'e'. It's a song about a girl."

"Yeah, but he's telling her to walk away. He's running the girl off. I presume for a guy because it's a totally gay song."

"Two-Bit ditched _me_. He didn't ditch me for a guy."

"Two-Bit's a big pussy though. He don't know how to handle a girl like you."

I cocked an eyebrow ala Two-Bit at Tim.

"Really, who does?" I said, smiling in to the shadows.

"Not me," Tim said.

That's all the further he got. I was sort of disappointed, but sort of glad for it too.


	6. Chapter 6

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders

**Sister Goldern Hair- Six**

My sense of relief didn't last.

The door opened and Janine stumbled in. She hit the light switch and the room filled up with light. I could feel Tim's whole body cringe.

"Hey, who's this?" A voice said from the hall. He stepped inside and sneered at Tim and me. "Aww, ain't that cute? Cuddlin' on the couch like a couple of teenagers…oh, they _are_ teenagers. How you been, Shepard?"

It seemed strange to me that anyone thought of Tim as a mere teenager. In my world he was a force to be reckoned with. He was an operator. He called the dance.

The voice behind the taunt came from someone who trumped Tim in size and criminal scope. I had seen Carter Burr before, and didn't need the "You stay the fuck away from him" I got from my brother when I asked "Who's that?" I had intended to stay away. I had asked Cal out of morbid curiosity. I wanted to put a name to his dangerous face the way people feel need to name hurricanes.

It didn't help that Tim didn't have a smart-ass reply for Carter. He sat in silence the way Curly might have if Tim had said something similar to him. It was Janine who spoke first.

She said to me, "Where's Rosie?"

"Bedroom," I said and nodded in that direction. I was trying to not to look at her. The expression "rode hard and put away wet" came to mind. Until right then, I'd always thought people said it about horses. Her skinned looked filmy. Her clothes clung on her. The humidity from her own body had brought the curl back to her blonde hair.

Janine nodded. She appeared to think on that for a moment.

Carter told her, "You got time, baby. Why don't you go cook up?"

"Yes, by all means," Tim finally spoke. He waved his hand.

Janine hurried down the hall to her room. I could hear the dresser drawer grind open. Carter reached for a chair from the kitchen table. He pulled it to him and turned it around. He sat on it backwards in front of Tim and me.

"Go help her," Tim said. He elbowed me.

"Help her cook up? I'm not going to be much help there…"

"Go and help her." His voice got lower. He spaced out the words like he was speaking to someone unfamiliar with English. I got up from the couch and walked between Tim and Carter, hyper-aware that Carter was watching me go.

Janine was sitting on the edge of her bed, screwing a needle on to the edge of syringe that she must have had in her purse. I peered around her to be sure Rosie was still sleeping. Janine held out the lid of the baby food jar to me.

"Get me some water? Just a couple of drops?"

I shook my head. "Get it yourself. What's going to happen?"

"He told Tim not to be coming around no more," she said. "I'd expect he's going to do whatever he does when he don't want to tell someone twice."

"Which is what?"

Janine just blinked at me. I got my answer in the form of a loud pop and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

I whispered _shit_ and Rosie awoke. She started to wail. I left her to Janine and took off towards the next room. I skidded to a halt on the bare floor when Carter raised the gun at me.

"Who the fuck are you, anyway?" He asked.

Tim lay on the floor between Carter and me, gasping and squirming. He clutched a growing red spot on his hip.

"Don't," he hissed at me.

"Shut the fuck up, Shepard. You want me to finish it? You- girl- what's your name?"

"Kathy," I said. I held my hands out away from my body and took a step towards Tim. Carter let me do it, keeping the gun trained on me. I knelt down next to Tim. I tried to pull his hand away from the wound, but he sucked in a hard breath when I touched him.

"Kathy," Carter said to me. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," I said. I almost called him 'sir'.

"Then I think it's only fair that I know who you are. I've found I usually have good luck with Shepard's girls. What's your name?"

"Kathy Reilly."

Tim mumbled _son of a bitch_ and let his head fall back on the floor. Carter Burr sniffed and almost smiled.

"Do I know your brother, then?"

"I'd guess you do."

"I'm guessing then this is all a mistake- you being here. Because if he knew you was here we'd all be in a shitload of hurt."

I looked down at Tim. His eyes were shut tight and he was breathing in short, controlled breathes like they tell women in labor to do.

I heard a click above me and I looked up. Carter had uncocked the gun and was putting it back in his belt.

"Shepard, this was all a mistake, right?" He said.

"Hell of a big mistake, Carter," Tim hissed.

"You keep this one for yourself, then," Carter nodded at me. "And stay the hell off of my turf. You leave Janine to me."

"Gee, thanks," Tim whispered.

I stood up and Carter looked me over. He shook his head.

"Damned shame," he said, and then, "you're going to count to one hundred, alright, girl? You can count, can't you? I got ask, you know, being's your Cal's sister…I'ma walk out that door and you're going to count to one hundred and then you can do what you need to do with him. You got me?"

I nodded. Carter Burr backed out the door into the hall. I listened to him going down the stairs. I heard the door open and shut.

I didn't realize I was counting out loud until I hear Tim say, "faster, will you?"

* * *

I sat in a chair in the waiting room with my feet tucked up underneath me. With reluctant help from Janine, I had hauled Tim downstairs and to my brother's car. He made it that far and passed out. I told Janine she'd better stay with the baby.

She said to me, "I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"No, it ain't," I told her. "It's Carter's fault, and my brother's."

Now, sitting in the waiting room and half-listening to Tim Shepard's mom argue with a nurse, I couldn't stop thinking about my brother and his role in all this. Admitting it to Janine was the first time I'd admitted it to myself: Calvin was not just the friendly neighborhood pot dealer. He had become someone far more sinister than I'd been aware, and he was still calling the shots that fucked up our lives from behind bars at McAlister.

Curly Shepard sat across the waiting room from me. He was seated next to a large fish tank. He kept peering in and tapping at the fish.

"Don't do that," I said. "It makes them go deaf."

He smirked. "What the fuck, Kathy? Fish can't hear."

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I wasn't sure so I let it go. I was so tired. The presence of Tim's mother just made me more so. The nurses had called her. I had tried to dart away as soon as I was sure Tim was being cared for, but one of the nurses stepped between me and the door, pointed to the waiting room and told me to sit. She kept an eye on me while she called Shepard's mom.

Mrs. Shepard arrived with Curly. I couldn't tell if she was panicked or drunk. She started in on the nurses, who had little to tell her: he was in surgery, he'd been shot, the bullet had missed the artery. Their biggest issue was anesthesia. Tim was heavily intoxicated, the nurse told Mrs. Shepard, and that was making it difficult to decide how far under to put him.

I winced every time I thought about it.

"Curly," I said. "I need to leave. Can you handle your mom?"

"No one can handle my mom. Where do you need to go?"

"I just…"

"No, you don't need to do shit. I can't imagine what more you could possibly fuck up, but I have faith you'd find something. If your plan ain't to run right home and cry in the dark over your crimes, then why don't you just stay put?"

I had to smile. He was still asking rather than telling me. That was the line between Curly and Tim.

"Why is Carter Burr afraid of my brother?" I asked him.

Curly shook his head. "The devil himself is afraid of your brother."

"Exactly. I ain't afraid of my brother. Never had cause to be. What's he done to everyone else that he isn't doing to me?"

Whether to buy time or just to be a pain, Curly tapped at the fish. They wiggled their way to the other end of the aquarium.

"Curly, he shot Tim. He could've finished him off and he could've shot me and Janine, too, but he asked for a running start and took off when he found out who my brother is. That's not the way I understood this guy to operate."

Curly looked over his shoulder at his mother, who was talking to a doctor.

"Curly, what are they to each other? Buddies, enemies, does Carter work for Cal?"

"You'll have to talk to Tim about that."

"Shit, Curly, do you think Tim is going to talk to me about…?"

"Then take that as a sign. Let it go. Let it ride, Kathy."

I snatched up my purse from the chair next to me and got up. Curly started to ask where I was going, but he got up to follow me when I blew on by him. I didn't really have a plan; I just wanted out of there. Going home and crying in the dark, as Curly had suggested, would have suited me just fine.

That all got shot to hell, though, when we met Two-Bit in the stairwell.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked.

I kept on walking right past him. Curly tried, but Two-Bit shoved him hard against the railing.

"Where are you going, Shepard? The more time she spends with you, the deeper into the shit she seems to get. Why don't you get on upstairs and look after your brother? I'll take care of her."

I stopped on the landing and turned around.

"Curly, go on back," I said. "Two-Bit, I don't need you to do shit for me. Why don't you go crawl back in bed with whatever little tramp you been drinking with?"

Two-Bit stammered a _what the?_ He shot Curly a warning look before starting back down the stairs towards me. Curly hovered where he was.

"Who told you that?" Two-Bit asked me. "Shepard told you that?"

I said nothing. His eyes seemed clear enough when he got close enough for me to see them. His clothes seemed straight enough. No lipstick or hickies around the collar. He seemed sober and untouched.

"You want to know where I've been?" He asked me.

I shrugged and looked back up at Curly again.

"I followed that dumb bastard to some dive downtown. I had exactly one beer while he put away enough to kill horse. I got absolutely jack-shit out of him about that baby. I got tired of his bs and I left. I been watching TV with Sodapop Curtis. This guy-" He gestured towards Curly behind him, "called Pony and told him Tim got shot and you were with him. That's all I knew, baby. Shepard Junior wasn't real clear on your status."

"Tim said you were…" I didn't finish.

"I'm sure he did," Two-Bit said. "And what did that get him?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. We were just sitting around drinking."

I don't know why I was so angry with Two-Bit right then. I should have been- and I was- pissed at Tim, but I was mad at Two-Bit too. I felt guilty, I guess, and I didn't like it. I didn't like being talked at like a little kid caught stealing candy.

"I'm going to go home," I said to Two-Bit, and then to Curly, "Really."

Curly took it as permission to dart back up the stairs and disappear through the door to the ward. I turned away from Two-Bit and started down towards the parking garage. Two-Bit just stood there. I could hear the echo of his lighter clicking open and shut. Other than that, he didn't make a move.

I sat for a few minutes in my car before I put the key in the ignition. I wasn't waiting for him. I was waiting for inspiration. I thought maybe if I sat long enough, I'd know what to do. Guys like Tim always seemed to know what to do next. I wasn't like Tim Shepard. Nothing came. My head was empty and quiet.

I started the car, but then I didn't go home. I just kept right on lying with all the rest of them.


	7. Chapter 7

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders.

I love writing about a time before internet when paperwork took forever to get processed.

**Sister Golden Hair- Seven**

At the halfway point between Tulsa and McAlester is the town of Henryetta. I made it that far before I pulled the car over in a park and fell asleep. I woke up to a tapping on my side window and a bright streak of sunshine in my face.

I shook the sleep out of my eyes and sat up. A sheriff's deputy stood outside the car. He looked a little embarrassed to be bothering me. I rolled the window down.

"Good morning, ma'am."

I mumbled a _hi_.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "I was trying to get a head start last night to visit my brother, but I got too tired so I pulled over here. I'm sorry. Am I trespassing or something?"

"No, that's alright. You from Tulsa?"

I nodded. I figured he could tell him the plates. He shifted on his feet and I noticed he hadn't yet taken his finger of the snap of his holster. I sat up a little straighter.

"Where are you headed?"

I told him. "McAlester. My brother's in prison."

"This his car then?"

I nodded. I was wide awake now. This wasn't a friendly 'wake up and get out the park' chat. The deputy already knew this was my brother's car. He was asking to see what kind of answer I'd give him.

"Do you need the registration?" I asked.

I figured I had nothing to hide. It was Cal's car. He'd won it in a drag race two years ago. I didn't get then why he wanted it so bad. It looked like shit when he brought it home. He turned it in to something else entirely. It was a solid and beautiful car.

Making sure to keep my hands visible to the deputy, I leaned towards the glove compartment. I took out the envelope with the registration and handed it to him through the window.

The deputy looked at the papers, but I could tell he wasn't really reading them. He handed them back.

"Ma'am, are you aware that this car is currently listed as the property of the United States Marshall's Service due to its use in a crime?"

I shook my head.

"It's my brother's car," I insisted. "He won it off a guy in a drag race, but he won the papers. He registered it. My brother's in the pen, but they didn't they take the car when they arrested him then. He wasn't in the car when he…"

I trailed off. They had come to our house when they arrested Calvin. I supposed that didn't mean he wasn't using the car when he committed the crime.

The deputy nodded.

"And your brother is the John Calvin Reilly as listed on that registration?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah, the car was seized- or meant to be seized- in 1964 from its previous owner. The car disappeared and was no longer in that owner's possession by the time the Marshall's arrested him and came around for the car. Still listed as stolen Marshall's property, though."

I let my head fall and hit the steering wheel.

"So that's how he got ahold of the car so easy," I mumbled. "They gave it up to him in the race because they knew it was about to be seized."

The deputy didn't answer me. An awkward silence passed between us. Finally, I gave in and asked him:

"So, are you taking the car?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm afraid so."

I nodded. I picked up my purse and got out. I avoided looking at the officer while I took the key to Cal's car off my key ring.

"So, who owned the car before my brother? Who were the Marshalls seizing it from?"

"Name Carter Burr ring a bell?"

That figured. I shrugged and then asked the deputy:

"Am I going to be able to make a phone call?"

* * *

Not only did he have a phone, the Okmulgee County Sheriff had a place for me to sit and wait too. He booked me- it was a formality, he assured me- for possession of stolen property. Because the car was stolen federal property, it was a federal crime and I would have to speak with a Marshal before I would be released.

I told them there was no sense in making my phone call until I knew how long that was going to be. They were kind enough not to put me in a holding cell. I had the run of the sheriff's office as long as I promised not to leave.

I had seen Marshalls on TV escorting James Meredith across the University of Mississippi. I knew they looked like any other guys in suits. Yet I imagined a more Wyatt Earp-like character coming for me: someone in a long coat, with weathered skin and a six-shooter.

The one who came for me was not old enough to weathered in any way. He didn't look much older than Calvin or Carter- just more clean-cut. He didn't look like a Soc either. They always struck me as slightly effeminate. This guy wasn't older than 23, but he had a badge and a gun. When he asked me questions, he was polite, called me "ma'am" instead of "honey". He showed me at least some surface-level respect even if he didn't quite know what to do with me.

I was smitten.

The sheriff's deputy pointed us to a conference room. The Marshall and I sat at the end of a large table, around the corner from one another.

"Ma'am, my name is Deputy Ayres. I'm going to need to ask you some questions. You're not under arrest, so there's no need for a lawyer. We have no reason to believe that you were involved with the events of June 26th, 1964."

He was right on that.

I asked him, "What happened on June 26th, 1964?"

Deputy Ayres smiled at his tablet. He tapped his pen.

"I was just going ask you that, Miss Reilly. It was a while ago. Do you have any guess as to where you were, what you might have been doing?"

"Was it a weekend or a weeknight? It was before I started sophomore year of high school. If it was a weeknight, I'd guess I was at home."

He smiled again and told me, "It was a Wednesday."

"What happened then?"

Instead of answering me, he pushed a photograph across the table at me.

"Do you know this man?"

I nodded. "That's Carter Burr. We've only formally met as of last night. He shot a friend of mine."

Deputy Ayres raised his eyebrows, but didn't seem too blown over by the news.

"Then he's back at it, that Carter. On June 24th, 1964, Carter Burr allegedly doped up two girls and took them across state lines to Fayetteville for a college party. One of those girls didn't come back. We've questioned the other girl- a Janine Turner- but she either can't or won't give us a straight story. The missing girl- a Katrina Lloyd- hasn't been seen since. The last time anyone saw her, she was getting in to that car you've been driving."

I felt my mouth twist up in an involuntary, nervous smile. I had been ravenous until that moment without breakfast and lunch. Now I felt ill.

Deputy Ayres continued: "We could never get enough out of Janine to charge Carter with kidnapping. She denies that Katrina was with them, but we have plenty of other witnesses in Tulsa and Fayetteville who say she was. Janine was sixteen at the time, so we charged Carter with statutory rape and sent him down. Before we could do it, though, he handed off the car."

"Yeah, my brother said he won it in a drag race."

"Were you present for that drag race?"

I shook my head. On weeknight in 1964, I wasn't present for much outside the confines of my room. My dad was strict as hell when he was around to keep an eye on me.

"Your brother didn't win that car. He provided a service to Carter."

"He sure did. He cherried that car out," I said, and then felt embarrassed. Deputy Ayres didn't care about my brother's genius for bodywork. He had a different take on it entirely.

"He cleaned that car out, Miss Reilly," he told me. "And destroyed any evidence that Miss Lloyd was in the car and any evidence of what might have become of her. Carter Burr deals in girls. Your brother deals in stolen property. We've had an eye on them both since that night. This isn't the only time that Burr has terminated an employee and your brother cleaned up his mess."

"So the only person who really knows is Janine," I said.

"There's Carter himself and there's your brother. Calvin has been less than cooperative, but now there's you."

I sat up and away from him in my chair. Until now, leaning over that mugshot of Carter, it felt like Deputy Ayres and I were in on something together. Now I realized he had a purpose for me.

"But I told you, I wasn't there. I didn't know any of it was going on. I didn't even know about the car."

"But you do know all the players, and I can guarantee your brother likes talking to you a lot more than he does me. Last time I saw your brother…well, it was less than friendly."

I scowled at him.

"What if Janine talks?"

He shook his head. "We don't consider her to be real reliable. Her drug habit makes her a questionable witness. She's also in a considerable amount of danger from Carter. We can't justify making that any worse. You're brother's relatively safe where he is."

I nodded, but only in understanding. I didn't agree with him.

"What happens to him if he admits to it?"

"Nothing, most likely. He's three-quarters of the way through his sentence for the aggravated now. If he owns up, we could suggest he get cut loose."

"But if Carter gets sent, wouldn't that put Cal in danger from him?"

"Carter's crime is federal. He'd go to OKC or Leavenworth."

"I ain't worried about that. I'm worried about Cal once he gets back to Tulsa."

"I see. There's Witness Protection, if it's really that dire. Our hope would be that shutting Carter down would relieve a lot of that danger."

I studied my hands.

"If Cal never told me about it before, why would he tell me now? Ain't it going to make him suspicious if I show up down there suddenly asking him about Carter?"

I kept hoping that I'd ask the question that would stump Agent Ayres and he'd say _oh, that's right- we can't do that- go on home_. I never found that question, though.

"That's what you were on your way down to Mac to do anyway, weren't you?" He asked me. "Tell him you've met Carter. Tell him Carter shot your friend- that Shepard kid? Yeah, we know him, too. Tell Calvin you've met Carter and Janine and the whole happy crew and now you think you're in some danger too."

I nodded. I guessed it wasn't entirely a lie. I wasn't ready to make things 100% easy on Deputy Ayres, though.

"I'm going to need a ride to McAlester," I told him. "And home again."

"Of course," said Deputy Ayres. "I'll buy lunch."


	8. Chapter 8

SE Hinton owns The Outsiders.

Reviews and con-crit are very much appreciated. I've made it a personal goal to start spelling Marshal and MacAlester correctly or at least consistantly.

**Sister Golden Hair- Eight**

All of my life, Calvin and I had this joking, poking, bullshitting kind of relationship. He was five years older. He said he wanted to be a good older brother. He wanted to be protective of me, but I wouldn't have it from the minute mom and dad brought me home. He said I used to cry every time he stuck his five-year old face in mine. I'd quit when he pulled away. That was our game of peek-a-boo. He said, from day one, I knew how to break his heart.

I didn't see it quite that way. From day one, I insisted, he was too close. That was me asking for space.

Now I had it. He couldn't get any closer than a table length and there was a sheet of glass between us. I had the upper-hand; I had the freedom to get up and walk away at my whim. I should have felt like I could call the shots or at least orchestrate the bullshit.

I leaned against the door of Deputy Ayres car, laid my head against the window, and went through all the possible lines I could give my brother.

"So, the Marshal's Service seized your car…"

"So, Carter Burr shot Tim Shepard…"

"So, you and Carter Burr- anything you want me to know about that?"

The closer we got to MacAlester, the less confident I became that I could say anything at all to him without flying into a rage. I'd think of Janine and Rosie and want to spit on the glass that hung between me and my brother.

"How're you feeling?" Ayres asked.

I squirmed.

"Don't feel a thing," I said.

I didn't want to talk with Ayres. I felt like he'd betrayed me. I knew damned good and well that it was my own feelings that had betrayed that had done that. A cute guy in a suit showed up to pluck me out of the Sheriff's office. I'd crushed on him and he went in for the kill. It wasn't his fault. He was doing his job, but we weren't on the same side, he and I. Trouble was, I didn't want to be on Cal's side in this one either.

"My brother's in prison," he offered.

I mumbled, "That's a damn shame."

He snickered and mumbled _hard-ass_ under his breath. Then he said, "He'll be gone a lot longer than Calvin. He killed a guy in Little Rock- knifed him outside a bar. He's never coming back."

"Give it time," I said. "Cal might pull off something like that yet."

"Yeah, we're kind of worried about Calvin and that sort of thing. Obviously, being sent away didn't teach Carter his lesson. I should warn you- we…the Marshal's service…we're probably going to be part of your life for a while. Cal and Carter are the kind of guys we like to keep tabs on."

I exhaled and a small circle of fog formed on the window. I wished I could tell Deputy Ayres to shut it because my brother was nothing like Carter Burr, but I knew that wasn't the truth. They were business associates in a symbiotic relationship, tied to one another like a dog chasing its tail.

"You said you knew about Tim," I said. "Are you going to go after Carter for shooting him?"

"That depends on Tim," Agent Ayres said.

"So, no, then? You can't do it just on my word alone?"

"We have a couple of options there. If this doesn't pan out, the State can go after Carter for attempted murder. He'd plead down to aggravated assault, be out again in a couple of years. In the meantime, we could ensure that Tim's draft number comes up. He gets sent to 'Nam and we hope that they forget about each other by the time he gets back. Or we could talk to Tim and suggest that he enter into a similar relationship to the one we now have with you. I don't see that one happening."

"He might have a pretty good reason," I said, thinking of Rosie. "He might have an interest in helping you and not in going to Vietnam."

"Really? What might that be?"

I sat back in the seat. I shook my head at Deputy Ayers.

"You figure that out. You can talk to Tim. I get the feeling talking to Cal's about going to drain me."

* * *

I went with Option #1.

I sat down on the other side of the glass from my brother, resisted the urge to spit, and said, "So, the Federal Marshal's seized your car."

Calvin was dumb in so many ways, but he was a good criminal, I guess. It didn't take anything more than his criminal mindset to know to ask:

"And they were kind enough to drive you down here to tell me that?"

"I was on my way already. They picked me up in Henryetta. You dickhead, I've been driving a car that's been wanted in a federal investigation…"

"Perhaps all these long days staring at a wall have addled my memory, Kit-Kat, but I seem to remember telling you that car was stolen."

"You were accusing me of stealing it from you!"

He grinned at me. "Is that how you took it? I'm dreadfully sorry. I shoulda been more clear."

There he was again- getting silly, pulling back to make me quit screaming. He raised his eyes to look at me.

He said, "Tell the nice Deputy Marshal that I don't know where the girl is. I wasn't present on the night she disappeared. I didn't clean shit out of that car but beer cans and burger wrappers. And then- you, little girl- get your ass back to Tulsa and keep your head down. Get yourself a job. Sling some drinks, type something for somebody. For Christ's sakes, find yourself a different kind of friend. Whatever happened to Two-Bit?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Two-Bit's fine," I lied.

"Not exactly how I would describe him, but he's harmless anyway. Keep your claws in a guy like that, Kath. Shit, even a guy like Shepard…I could deal with seeing you with that."

I saw my chance and took it: "Shepard's kind of out of commission at the moment, Cal. Your buddy Carter shot him in the apartment of the girl who didn't disappear on that trip to Fayetteville. Tim now has a baby with her."

Calvin laughed out loud at that. I thought he was laughing about Tim getting shot. That seemed low, even for Calvin. That wasn't what he found so amusing, though.

"Who? Janine? Is that her racket now since I ain't around? She telling Shepard it's his baby and getting him to take care of it?"

I swallowed hard. "She's your baby. Christ."

"Is she a she?" He asked. "I never paid a whole lot of attention. I mean, I kicked in. I was giving her money till I got sent. I guess she found herself another benefactor. Janine's persuasive when she wants to be."

"Does Janine know what happened to Katrina Lloyd?"

Calvin's nostrils flared. He leaned in towards the glass. I leaned back. He furrowed his brow at me.

"Kathy, Christ Jesus…say it with me: back to Tulsa…keep your head down…"

"Type something?" I said.

"Very good."

He sat back in his chair and waved at the guard that he was ready to go.

* * *

I fought back tears as I crossed the parking lot. I wasn't going to cry in front of Deputy Ayers. I was going to have a hell of a headache when I got home from holding it all in, but he wasn't going to see that Calvin had made me cry.

I slowed my steps, found a cigarette in my purse and took the time to smoke it before I got to Ayers' car. I stood outside the passenger door while I took the last couple of drags. He watched me, anxious and annoyed.

"He didn't tell me shit," I said when I got in the car. "He knew you were here. He told me…there's nothing. I got nothing. I wouldn't know whether or not to believe him if I did."

"Then do you care whether or not you see him go down?"

"He's my brother. I don't have a lot of family."

"Are you going to fight me on this? Are you going to keep getting in the way? My next stop is the hospital to visit Tim Shepard."

I shook my head. "Calvin told me to go be someone's secretary. He's right. That's about all I'm cut out for. I don't want anything complicated anymore."

Deputy Ayers nodded and turned the key in the ignition.

"Well, then," he said. "Let's get you home and you can get started on that."

* * *

Deputy Ayers gave me his card before I got out of his car and told me to call him if I heard anything or if I felt I was in any danger from Carter Burr. He assured me he'd be nearby. I thanked him, but the thought of it didn't make me feel safe or comfortable. What Carter Burr was into was worlds beyond me and the guys I hung around with, but none of us were exactly walking a straight and narrow line. I didn't like the scrutiny. I felt like I was betraying all of us somehow.

I read Ayers' card as I walked up the porch steps. It had the words "Justice, Integrity, Service" stamped across the bottom. His office number was a branch office in Little Rock, but he'd written another number on the back of the card. His first name was Devin. I'd never met a guy named Devin before.

I put the card in my purse and opened the front door.

The whole house smelled good. It smelled like food. I thought my father was home and my heart swelled. I dumped my bag in a chair like I used to when I got home from school as a kid. I rushed in to the kitchen to find Two-Bit sitting on the counter drinking a beer and watching a skillet of eggs and bacon on the stove.

"I can't cook nothing but breakfast," he said. "And you're a little light on everything else."

"I just spent the day in the custody of United State Marshals," I blurted out.

He cocked his eyebrow like he wasn't quite sure he believed me. He took a sip of his beer, handed it to me and asked:

"They don't give you a phone call, or what?"

"I was all the way down in Henryetta. Your car wouldn't have made it. Shit…they seized Cal's car. I don't have a car anymore."

"Well," he said. "On a brighter note, Shepard's not dead."

"That's good 'cause the Marshal is going to want to talk to him next." I sat down at the kitchen table and looked up at him. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I went to see my brother…he's such a bastard. I've managed to surround myself with people I can't trust. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You're the only one of them who isn't completely full of shit."

Two-Bit shrugged.

"You were pretty amped up last night. I figured you'd see the light eventually, though."

He winked at me and snagged the beer back.

I asked him, "You want to take a wild guess whose baby Rosie is?"

"All's I know is she ain't mine."

"Calvin says she's his."

Two-Bit smirked. "Well, that's certainly unfortunate for the little pumpkin. Let me guess- you now feel some kind of responsibility for the child that you didn't previously thus tying us to her forever till the end of time?"

I hadn't thought about it. Now that he brought it up, I still didn't know what to think, and I didn't know what to think when he said "us" like he intended to be around forever till the end of time.


	9. Chapter 9

SE Hinton owns it.

**Sister Golden Hair- Nine**

We were kissing on the couch when I thought of it.

"I need to go to the library," I said.

Two-Bit pulled away and frowned at me.

"I'd like to think that's some kind of kinky maneuver that I just don't understand, but I doubt it."

I shook my head. "No, I really need to go to the library- the one with the books in it."

"It might surprise you that I happen to know the library closed at six."

I grinned and shook my head. "I am a little surprised."

I lay back again. I had my legs across his lap. When I lay back, he rolled on top of me and brushed my hair away from my face. He kissed me. I kissed him back. He let his head drop against my shoulder and exhaled in exasperation.

"Alright…fuck it. Why do you have to go to the library, Kath?"

I kissed him again. "Well, I guess I don't right now. Any idea when it opens in the morning?"

"Nine o'clock sharp. I'd wait until after the desk lady gets that first cup of coffee coursing through her veins though. She's a little bear until she's had her morning hit. Give it till ten and I'll go with you."

I didn't even ask why Two-Bit knew so much about the library and the habits of its staff. He probably went there to sleep. It couldn't possibly have been to check out books. They were too easy to steal.

I put a gentle bite down on his earlobe and tugged. Maybe I could make him forget all his good intentions of babysitting me on my trip to the library.

* * *

He didn't forget, though. The first thing he asked me in the morning was, "you headed to the library then?"

"Yes. You're headed to school, right?"

He put a finger to his chin and pretended to think about it.

"That would be a…no. What's going at the library?"

I sighed. "Microfiche. I want to look up something in one of the old newspapers."

"I'm going with you, Kath," he said. "You might as well tell me what it is you're looking for. Two heads being better than one and all."

I frowned at him. "Are you skipping school to make sure I don't go visit Shepard in the hospital?"

"You brought it up, not me, babe. Besides, you're now car-less. I'll drive us."

I gave in to the offer of a ride and used it to grill him about Katrina Lloyd. Two-Bit was incredulous at the mention of her name.

"You don't remember that? Christ, don't you read the paper?"

I shook my head. "But you read about her. That's good. So there will be something in the paper. You ever meet her?"

He shook his head. He knew her by reputation only _if you know what I mean_. She went to the Catholic School. She grew up downtown. Either way, she crossed paths with Shepard and his gang more than with Two-Bit. She had long black hair- he remembered that much- and no one pitched too big of a fit when she fell off the face of the earth.

"That Marshal told me that Carter Burr did her in and then Calvin cleaned out the car."

"The car you've been driving?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's exactly what I said to Calvin. Yeah, they didn't really work together so much, but Calvin has the goods on Carter, or so that Marshall seems to think."

"And you need to continue to be involved in this why?"

"Because I already am. Carter and Janine know who I am. Calvin says that baby is my niece. The Marshal told me he was going to be part of my life for a while. I'd at least like to have a little more of an idea what I'm dealing with."

"I'd say it's already pretty clear what you're dealing with, Kathy. You think you're going to be able to flesh something out that the United States Marshals haven't?"

"No, but he hasn't been overly forthcoming. I'd like to know what he's not telling. And if you're going to be crotchety about it, why are you tagging along anyway?"

"Because it's more interesting than going to school," Two-Bit said, rolling his eyes.

It didn't take me long to prove him wrong on that. The microfiche made us both dizzy. Two-Bit claimed he was going to puke and wandered off in search of books that he'd heard were banned. He wanted to get a look at all that "adult content" for himself. Maybe, he figured, it would make an adult of him.

"And don't tell me Catcher In The Rye neither," he said, loud enough to earn him a cleared throat from the librarian. "I know that's nothing more than cussing."

"Story of O," I mumbled without looking away from the fiche.

It made me sad how little was in the paper regarding Katrina and Janine's initial disappearance. They were a blurb on the third page- two Sacred Heart seniors reported missing. When Janine was found and Katrina wasn't, the stories got a longer and closer to the front page for a while. They also took on a more judgmental tone. The word "prostitute" was never used, but people who knew the girls were interviewed and they all made subtle comments about the girl's lifestyles. One was even a cousin who said that Janine left home for weeks at a time. No one was too concerned that she was gone until the Lloyd family reported Katrina missing.

Katrina Lloyd's picture was haunting to me. I was a little ashamed because of it. She drew my sympathy because she looked like a nicer, more innocent person than Janine. I picked up the judgment from the community in the text of the stories, but I made the same judgments myself when I looked at the pictures.

Katrina had the long, black hair that Two-Bit had described. It was a school picture the newspaper stories ran. She was wearing a shirt with a white lace collar. Her hair was pushed back with a plain headband. She might have been wearing lipstick and mascara- no other make-up. She was a cardboard cutout of all the other girls at Sacred Heart, girls we often mocked for their manic taste in clothing. When they weren't in school, the Sacred Heart girls had the shortest, tightest skirts. Their bra straps slid down their upper arms for the world to see. They shot us disgusted looks from eyes caked with black kohl liner.

I smiled, though, when I took a closer look at the necklace she was wearing. I had ignored it at first glance because I figured it was some kind of cross, the kind all the Sacred Heart girls got for their first communion. It wasn't, though. Closer inspection revealed it was a rabbit- the Trix Bunny, in fact, just some plastic thing from out of a cereal box hung on the chain in place of first communion crucifix.

If I was Janine, I decided, I would miss someone like Katrina a whole lot. She had the look of someone with a little bit of attitude.

Janine's family didn't choose a school picture. It was a piece of a snapshot. There was another person in the picture, I presumed a relative because there was a Christmas tree in the background. The relative had been cropped out with only an arm remaining.

Janine was smiling. It was a real smile, not a doped-up one. Still, she looked hard in the picture. She looked poor. She had dark circles under her eyes and her blonde hair was undone. It was curly in the picture, its natural state.

"Whatchyou got?" Two-Bit's voice behind me about scared me out of my skin.

"Nothing I didn't already know other than what she looked like."

"What's with this book?" He asked. He bopped me on the head with a copy of The Story of O.

"I was kidding, Two-Bit. It's sure as hell been banned all over. It's about people who get off on hurting each other and being hurt."

"And you've read it?"

I had started reading all the banned books I could get my hands on when they tossed me out of school for my own writing.

I winked at him. "Just the good parts. Actually, it goes downhill pretty quickly. I guess I'm just not into that. You said you wanted adult content though…"

"Maybe I'm not that much of an adult yet," he said, eyeing the cover of the book with suspicion. Then he changed his mind, it seemed. He sat back in his chair, looked around for witnesses, and began peeling the library label off the book.

"Don't steal that," I told him. "If you're going to steal something, find me these. The Marshal told me Katrina wasn't the only one of Carter's girls to be gotten rid of. You think this might be another one?"

In the same paper with the court news that listed Carter's statutory rape charge there was another blurb in the second section: A girl named Eileen Morris was missing. Her family hadn't seen her in three days. Friends said she had phoned and said she would meet them at a club downtown, but that she had to check in with a new boyfriend first. The friends said they hadn't met the boyfriend, but they knew they didn't like him. He was always making Eileen "check in".

Two-Bit furrowed his brow and grumbled. He wrote down the stack numbers on the inside cover of The Story of O.

* * *

Outside of the library Two-Bit pulled the stolen copy of The Story of O out of his jacket. I rolled my eyes at him. He wiggled his eyebrows and produced the folded newspaper clipping from between its pages. He handed me the keys to the Plymouth, saying he had reading to do.

I'd barely gotten the key in the ignition before he asked me, "Have you read this? She gets right into it, doesn't she?"

"I got thrown out of school over a hell of a lot less."

He hmmm'ed to himself, continued reading for a minute and then said to no one in particular, "What does she still need her gloves on for?"

"To create distance," I told him. "He wants to be able to touch her, but she's not allowed to touch him."

"That's stupid," he muttered and I had to smile.

Yeah, it was pretty stupid, but it was a relief to know that Two-Bit agreed.

* * *

I lagged behind Two-Bit in the yard to check the mail: bills, bills, and a thin envelope from Cal. My brother rarely wrote to us. He rarely wrote anything at all. In honor of my birthday, he had scrawled "Happy birthday, Kit-Kat!" on a piece of McAlester letterhead and sent it. I saved it because it was such a rare gift coming from him.

Before I could tear into the envelope, a black car pulled up behind Two-Bit's. I recognized the car. It was Deputy Ayers. He didn't shut it off when he got out, so I figured he wouldn't be staying long.

Just to play with him, I raised my hands in the air like I was surrendering to something. He wasn't amused. His face stayed hard. He looked a little lost. I put my hands down.

"Kathy, I'm sorry to have to tell you…I'm sorry to have to tell you and be in such a hurry. Do you have a way to get ahold of your father?"

I nodded. "He'll call tonight. He said he was going to call. What's going on?"

"Your brother was found dead in his cell at McAlester, Kathy. They claim there was a note, that it was a suicide, but given the circumstances…that's why I have to go right away. I need to get to the hospital and check in on Tim Shepard. Do you still have my number?"

I nodded again but said nothing.

"I'm going to be at the hospital," Deputy Ayers said. "Call me there if you need me. If Carter Burr is trying to erase any witnesses to the night Katrina Lloyd disappeared, well, Shepard seems to know a lot."

"What about Janine?" I asked.

"We've picked her up, her and the baby. Social Services will take the baby."

"That's my brother's baby," I said. It was getting more and more difficult to speak. My voice felt like it was fading away.

Ayers nodded. "If you have any proof of that- Janine's word should be good enough- you or your dad would have first crack at custody then. Kathy, I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Yeah," I said.

He paused for a second and looked at me, like he was searching for something in my eyes. Maybe he was looking for the wheels to be turning- for me to be gearing up to do something vengeful or stupid. I blinked. He saw nothing because there was nothing to see.

When he turned back to his car and drove away, I sat down on the curb in front of the house. I couldn't think of anything else to do. Behind me, I heard Two-Bit's voice telling me my dad was on the phone and what the hell was I doing sitting in the street.

"Kathy, come talk to your dad!"

I stood up and turned towards the house. It was too soon- no time to think before I had to tell my father something. I couldn't even bring myself to cry yet. I know I'd be there by the time I got to the phone. I'd be a wreck and wouldn't be able to tell him anything at all.


	10. Chapter 10

SE Hinton owns it.

**Sister Golden Hair- Ten**

I walked across the yard, up the steps to the porch and in through the front door. I know must've done it because I found myself standing there in front of Two-Bit. I don't remember it, though- moving from one place to another.

He mouthed the word _what?_ at me.

I took the phone from him with one hand. I slid the other around his waist and laid my forehead on his chest.

I swallowed hard and spoke into the receiver:

"Daddy?"

"Hey, Kit-Kat. Guess where I'm at?" My father collected the most ridiculous names for towns in his head: Downer, Minnesota; Correctionville, Iowa; Hell, Michigan. He had been so delighted to tell me once that he was calling from Hell; said he'd beat Calvin there. Downer, he promised, truly was one.

I didn't have it in me to guess this time.

"Daddy," I whispered. "Cal's dead."

I felt Two-Bit twitch. He took a step back and tipped my head up to look to look at him. I nodded.

When my father didn't speak, I continued, "A marshal just came by. They found him in his cell. They said it looked like a suicide…"

"Well, that's just bullshit," My father stuttered.

"Yeah, they were thinking that too. They didn't tell me anything else…" And this is where I finally broke. I turned away from Two-Bit as I started to cry. "I don't know what to do, Daddy. I don't know what to do if they bring his body…or if they don't…I don't know what to do…will you please come home?"

I felt Two-Bit's hand on my hip. He pulled me back to him again and set his chin on my shoulder.

My father said, "Yeah. Yes, baby, I'll come home. It'll take a bit. I'm back in Minnesota…I'm in Nimrod, Minnesota…speaking of your brother."

I sniffled, but I forced a smile. I could tell my dad was trying to on his end too.

* * *

I finally had to ask Two-Bit to leave for a bit. I kept crying and he kept following me around. It would've been alright if he was an old hound dog or something. I could cry to a hound dog and it wouldn't keep saying stupid things to try and make me feel better. Two-Bit couldn't help it. He knew there wasn't anything he could do but talk, so he just kept talking.

I asked him if he maybe ought to check in on his mom and his sister.

"You want me to leave?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I won't go nowhere," I promised him. "I just need some quiet. And I'm probably going to get real mad after a bit."

He was hurt. I could see it. He didn't kiss me goodbye. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and told me to call him otherwise he'd be back after dark to spend the night.

I nodded and told him that was cool. I locked the door behind him and slid down against the door frame to sit on the floor. Next to me, the pile of mail lay where I'd dropped it. I picked up the envelope from Cal and turned it over in my hands.

He had terrible handwriting. It was a sign of something- I remembered a social worker telling my dad once when they'd picked Cal up as a juvenile. His handwriting was a symptom of why he had so much trouble in school.

"Because he can't goddamned write so's anyone can read it," my father had said. "That's why he has so much damned trouble in school."

Calvin typically wrote in tiny script and all in capital letters. My birthday letter was an exception. The letters were huge. It looked like a seven-year old had written it.

I tore open the envelope and hoped for something legible. What I got was a map.

It took me a second looking at it. Calvin couldn't draw pictures, but he was good reading drafting and blueprints. He'd done some construction work and plenty of mechanical work on the outside. In prison, he said an older inmate was teaching him about electrical work. He was learning to read blueprints.

He had learned quite a bit, it would seem, because he'd drawn me one. It took me a minute of looking at it, but I finally recognized the position of the window and the door. It was Cal's own bedroom, drawn looking up from the floor. The furniture wasn't completely drawn; just the feet where they touched the floorboards. There was his bed, nightstand, and the desk where he'd never in his life sat to do homework across the room. Next to the closet door was his dresser.

My heart caught in my throat. Within the boundaries of the dresser, he'd drawn something else: an animal with four legs, a round tail, and long ears.

I jumped up and ran down the hall towards Cal's room. The door was locked, but the doors in our house weren't too secure. I had to throw myself against it once to get it to open. I shoved the map in my pocket and yanked open the top dresser drawer.

A pain in my ass to the end of his days, what Cal left for me he left in the last drawer I opened. I had to go through all his boxers and grubby t-shirts first. At the very bottom of the bottom drawer, there it lay- a rabbit: a little plastic Trix Bunny on a gold chain.

Katrina Lloyd had been in that car, and Calvin had found her necklace when he was cleaning it out.

I was afraid to touch it at first. Did it mean she was dead for certain or had she just struggled and lost it in the car? I didn't want to touch it if it belonged to a dead person. I remembered, then, that Calvin was dead too and I'd just dug through his entire dresser.

I didn't get time to think on it more. There was a knock on the front door. I picked up the necklace with one of my brother's t-shirts and then shoved it in between the mattress and box spring. I shouted _alright_ to whoever was knocking and darted back out into the hall. I shut the door behind me.

I was too shaken up to even consider who might be at the door. When I opened it, it was just Curly Shepard, hands in his pockets, looking at his feet.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing, I guess."

I changed my tone then. He could hardly bear to sneak a look up at me.

"What do you need, Curly? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just…I was just bumming around. I can't stand it at home when Tim ain't there. All's they do is yell. You got anything to eat?"

I stepped out of the doorway and let him come in. He headed straight for the kitchen.

"My brother's dead," I said to him.

"I know. I was at the hospital when that Marshal came. He shooed me out, but I heard him tell Tim."

"Tim okay?"

"I guess he will be. That Marshal wanted to move him to jail or someplace safe, but the docs said he couldn't yet. I guess they're going to post a guard there. Don't want to hang out with him around either."

I nodded. Curly sat down at the kitchen table and I got out the bread and butter and eggs. My brother loved fried egg sandwiches. Suddenly, I missed the smell of them, and I figured Curly would eat anything.

"So, Janine's hid, too," I said. I picked up the coffee pot and he nodded. "Did you know that Katrina girl, Curly?"

He folded his arms on the table in front of him and put his head down.

"Christ on a cracker, Kathy, your brother's belly up and my brother's shot. Ain't that about all you need to know? I knew as much as she was a sweet piece of ass to look at. Not that she was ever going to give me a look in return. Story of my life. And now she's dead, too. Can you just leave the dead lay already?"

"You sure she's dead?"

"I feel pretty confident saying so. If she ain't, she's smart enough to never come back here."

I cracked an egg.

"Did anyone ever ask Janine?"

"I was never around to hear and my brother doesn't exactly relay all those kinds of conversations to me. You going to put pepper on that?"

He handed me the pepper shaker from the table. I took it and peppered his egg until he said _whoa_.

"What about Eileen Morris?"

Curly muttered _fuck_ under his breath, and that told me he knew Eileen too. At least to look at her.

"I can put Carter away, Curly," I told him. "I have something. I can prove that he did in Katrina…if he did in Katrina. If she's dead, I have him. If she's alive somewhere, though, all's I have is her lost-and-found and Carter still gets to walk around a free man. I don't want to put the Marshals on to him unless I'm sure."

Curly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because you wouldn't want to piss him off any more than you already have. I suppose you think I'm going to work with you for food?"

"Room and board," I said. "You can sleep on the couch until Tim gets out."

"What about Two-Bit?"

"It's my house, not his. He doesn't have any say in it."

"Ain't your dad coming home? You're going to have a funeral, ain't you?"

He said it like we might be just heathen enough not to.

I sat Curly's egg sandwich down in front of him and folded my arms across my chest.

"He won't care. You're a little young for me. He'll know there ain't anything going on."

Curly rolled his eyes again. If he was at all wounded by my insistence that nothing was ever going to happen between us, he was happy enough to be eating not to show it.

* * *

The phone rang at eleven o'clock. Curly and I had both fallen asleep watching TV. The station ID was playing the Sooner fight song. Curly was stretched out asleep on the couch. I was sitting on the floor in front of him. I got up, turned the TV off, and went for the phone.

I figured maybe it was Two-Bit either hung up at his mom's or hung up partying. It was Tim.

His voice was low and soft. I couldn't tell if it was because he was drugged or because he was trying not to be heard by the cop outside his door.

"Hey, kid," he said. "My little brother there?"

"Yeah, sleeping like a baby."

"He's almost cute like that, huh? When he's quiet. He's damned tolerable, ain't he?"

I nodded. Curly was tolerable to me anyway. I asked, "How are you?"

"High as a fuckin' kite. Any idea why there's a uniform outside my door? I'm sure someone explained it, but I've been in and out of it all day. What'd I do this time?"

"Nothing. Cal got himself killed. They figured you might be in some danger."

That struck Tim as funny. He cackled and then asked, "So I got an armed guard and you got Curly? I'd be pretty pissed right now if I was you."

"I get Two-Bit, too," I told him. "He ought to be back here pretty soon."

"He ain't there now? That little son of a bitch."

"I'm okay, Tim. We're okay. Why'd you tell me he was with a girl the other night- when y'all went out drinking?"

Tim mmm'd to himself, trying to remember.

"'Cause I'm kind of an asshole, I guess. Got a bit of a jealous streak."

"What the hell are you jealous of?"

He clicked his tongue and I could tell he was grinning again.

"Ah, come on, baby…" he said.

I wasn't in the mood to hear it. After all this time, years in fact, of thinking I wanted to hear it- tonight, I just couldn't handle it.

"It was an asshole thing to do, Tim," I told him.

"Yeah," he said. "And as soon as I'm out of here, I'm going to start doing my damnedest to make it up to you."

I didn't know if he was serious or bullshitting me or just doped up. Whatever the case, I said, "Yeah, you are, and I know exactly where you're going to start."

He started to say _okay_, but I hung up the phone. I went and tossed a quilt on Curly. I locked the front door and then checked the back. Two-Bit didn't have a key to either, but- late as it was getting- I didn't really want to see him again tonight anyway.

Before I went to bed, I went into Cal's room and retrieved Katrina Lloyd's Trix Bunny from between the mattresses. I took it to my room, still wrapped in my brother's t-shirt, and stuck it beneath my pillow.

It gave me crazy dreams.

* * *

a/n: So that's your Season Two. As soon as I come up with a decent song title, I'll start the third one. Thank you all who took the time to read and review.


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